The New Guys
by JA Baker
Summary: Sequel to ‘The Report’; The first English SGC team arrives, and the galaxy will never be the same again…
1. Part 1

**Paring:** established Sam/Jack

**Spoilers:** Series-6

**Summery:** Sequel to '_The Report'_; The first English SGC team arrives…

**The New Guys**

O'Neill stood against the HUMVEE he'd been assigned as the RAF C-130 Hercules transport taxied the last few hundred feet of the runway and cut its engines. He'd been told to expect a team of four, with an accompanying intelligence officer to coordinate with London.

The transport's rear cargo hatch slowly lowered, revelling darkness. This was shattered a moment later when a set of high-intensity halogen headlights flashed into light, and the loud roar of a powerful engine filled the air. A large black Land Rover practically erupted from the back of the Hercules and skidded to a halt near O'Neill.

"Do that again Sergeant and I'll have your stripes for breakfast!" A voice from within the airplane hollowed, "Have you any idea how hard it would be to get spare parts for that thing over here?"

"Sorry Boss." A Liverpool accent thick enough to float a brick came from within the car, the door of which opened to reveal a short man with oriental futures, "Just got a bit carried away."

"Just watch it in future." The first voice exited the plain, revelling a man in a British Army Captain's uniform. He walked over to O'Neill and saluted, "Colonel O'Neill I presume? Captain Mark McPherson, 22nd Special Air Service Regiment." He handed over a sealed manila folder, "Our orders and papers."

"You're sergeant always drive like that?" O'Neill asked as he opened the folder and had a quick look through the files.

"I'm afraid Sergeant Garang is a notoriously bad driver." McPherson explained, "He blames it on being borne in Liverpool, but I'm personally of the opinion that he's crazy."

"How much do you know about your assignment here?" O'Neill asked as the other men made their way out of the C-130, each carrying a large backpack, "I take it you know we don't really do deep-space radar telemetry here?"

"We where fully briefed before leaving Hereford, and Lieutenant Carver here," McPherson motioned to a second officer who had arrived and saluted O'Neill, "has been going over your mission reports ever since your government reviled the existence of the Stargate program to our Ambassador."

"Must have been fun." O'Neill smiled.

"Well, I'd better introduce the rest of my team," McPherson stood to one side to show the three other men, "This is Sergeant Paul Garang, formally of the 1st Ghurkha Rifles,"

"Sir." The driver of the Land Rover saluted.

"Privet Fred Jones, formally Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders."

"Sir." A mountain of a man with thick black hair saluted.

"And finally Privet Mick Wright, formally Pathfinder Company, Parachute Regiment."

"Sir." A wiry man with the intense eyes of a born scout saluted.

"What where you?" O'Neill asked McPherson, "Marines?"

"No sir," McPherson smiled, "Royal Black Watch."

"Impressive selection." O'Neill nodded, "We've set aside a building here at the airbase for you to use until you get settled in and find a more permanent place. We need you all to sign these," He handed out sheets of paper, "Just a little security percussion."

"Nick?" McPherson looked at Lieutenant Carver, who was scanning the document carefully, "We ok with this?"

"Doesn't look too different from what we sighed back home." Carver nodded, "I think its ok."

"No offence Colonel," McPherson had seen the look in O'Neill's eye, "But we have our own rules, same as you."

"Cool, what ever." O'Neill shrugged it off, "We'd better get you to you place so you can settle in and work off the jet-lag."

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" O'Neill called out as he walked through his kitchen door, "Please tell me you're not still ready that scientific journal?"

"No, I finished that: I'm trying to set the clock on your VCR." Carter called from the living room, "So, what do you think of the new guys?"

"Well, let's just say they are just like I remember the SAS being like." O'Neill opened the fridge, "You want a beer?"

"I'd kill for one. So, tell me more about the Brits?"

"Well, I'm never going to lend their Sergeant my car, but apart from that I think I like them."

"Where are we going for their first mission?"

"I was thinking P3X-729, something nice and simple, to break them into things gently."

"Juna? We haven't been back there since Cronus died."

"It'll give us a chance to check up on things." O'Neill cellular went off, "Colonel O'Neill. What? Ok, I'm on my way."

"What's happened?"

"The Brits caught a couple of NID agents trying to brake into their place; PM's say they've got them hanging upside down from the roof."

"Now **THIS** I have to see." Carter grinned, grabbing her coat.

**The End**

_Note: a longer Stargate/Rainbow Six story is in the works, so don't hassle me…_


	2. Part 2

_Because you all beg and grovel so nicely…_

**The New Guys, Part 2**

"Um, Captain McPherson." O'Neill walked towards the two story building that had been assigned to the British SGC team, "What's going on?"

"Colonel; good to see you again!" McPherson smiled, "Just a little security matter."

"Yeah, about that…" O'Neill looked up the side of the building, and saw the two men who where hanging over the side of the flat roof, "Is that even legal?"

"Good question." McPherson pulled a radio from his belt, "Nick; Colonel O'Neill wants to know if this is legal?"

"_Define legal_." The inelegance officer's reply came back after a moment silence, "_We did catch them trying to break into a British Army base, and there's a lot of leeway as to what we do with them_."

"Leeway?" McPherson asked.

"_Well, we could have just shot them on sight_." Sergeant Garang's voice came over the radio, "_But that always creates way too much paperwork_…"

"I think it would be best if I had a word with the two of them." O'Neill suggested, not wanting to be in the middle of a private war between the NID and the SAS: he wasn't sure who'd win.

"Ok lads, bring'm down so Colonel O'Neill can talk to them." McPherson looked up at the roof, "And no falling down stairs."

"You often deal with people like this?" O'Neill asked the SAS officer.

"We normally deal with the sort of people who think the Geneva Convention is a work of fiction." McPherson suddenly looked older, "If we get captured, and people work out who we are, things can get 'unpleasant'."

"Personal experience?"

"No, but close: a few years back I was part of a task force in Sierra Leone sent to rescue a group of soldiers captured by a violent militia gang. They wanted to force any Peacekeepers out so they could take over. We were sent in to get our boys out, and teach them a lesson."

"Did it work?"

"They didn't take anymore British prisoners." McPherson shrugged, turning to where the rest of his team where approaching, Privet Jones holding two rather pale NID agents by the scruff of their necks, "So what do we do with these two?"

"What where they trying to do?" O'Neill asked, crossing his arms.

"Trying to get a look at our ciphers and encoding equipment." Lieutenant Carver stood slightly to one side, "Some of the stuff we have is so heavily classified we're not meant to share it with anyone."

"You two got anything to say for yourselves?" O'Neill looked at the two NID agent, "Anything about the fact that you where attempting to gain illegal access to a military base belonging to a friendly nation? Anything about the numerous international laws you must have broken?" No?" He shook his head, "Sam, can you get the camera."

"Here you go." Carter handed over a Polaroid camera.

"Smile!" O'Neill pointed the camera at the two agents and took a photo, "Now we have a record of what you look like: we see you around again, and we're let Sergeant Garang here deal with you."

"I like the sound of that." The former Ghurkha smiled, holding out the agents ID badges, "I'm going to pass these on to some friends of mine: anything happens to us, they'll come looking for you two."

"Now get out of here!" McPherson yelled at the two terrified agents.

"I think you should take these, sir." Garang handed O'Neill the two ID's, "They've served their purpose: they now **think** that we'll go after them."

"Nice trick." O'Neill smiled, "I'll see you all at the briefing tomorrow."

"Certainly, sir." McPherson smiled, "We're looking forward to getting stuck in."

**The End**

_The SG-1/Rainbow sequel proper is in the works, so watch this space… _


	3. Part 3

**The New Guys, part 3**

"Captain McPherson, may I have a word with you in my office please?" General Hammond asked the young British officer as he made his way through the corridors that connected the various areas of the SGC.

"Certainly, Sir." McPherson nodded, following the older man to his office and standing at ease on the other side of his desk.

"Captain, there appear to be some minor inconsistencies in your reports." Hammond sifted through a pile of paper on his desk, "Let me give you a few examples missing equipment: four crates of fragmentation grenades, two crates of Claymore mines, twenty-kilos of C4 plastic explosive, two .50-caliber belt-fed machineguns, two sets of radios, twenty fully charged staff-weapons, one charger for staff-weapons, one crate of Zats, one charger for Zats, two recovered cannons from a crashed Goa'uld Death Gliders, two-kilos of weapons-grade Naquadah, a dozen suits of Jaffa armor, two fuel cells taken from the same crashed Death Glider as the aforementioned cannons and a significant amount of ammunition of varying calibres."

"I am not sure what the General is trying to say?"

"Oh, I'm not finished yet: two-dozen boxes of assorted Goa'uld control crystals, one personal force-field emitter, four ribbon devices, one healing device and one box of Goa'uld long-range communicators. There is also the question of the two Tel'tak shuttles and the Al-Kesh bomber your team supposedly destroyed, but our people have been unable to find any trace of when they went to look for spare parts."

"Perhaps they looked in the wrong place?"

"Would you care to speculate as to where they should look?"

"Not really, sir."

"Captain, I am capable of accepting a lot of the equipment your team gets through is the result of being rather aggressive when it comes to your dealing with the System Lords." Hammond pulled out a page from one report, "Colonel O'Neill reports that one of your men, a Private Jones, head-butted a minor System Lord into unconsciousness for, and I quote, 'looking at him funny'."

"I am afraid that Jones can get a little high spirited at the time, and it did work out well in the end…"

"Yes: half the System Lords Jaffa defected to the rebels, taking several of his ships with them, one of which is 'missing'."

"Is the General trying to infer something?"

"Is there something I should be inferring?"

"I wouldn't presume to know the Generals mind, sir."

"Just the sort of response I have come to expect from Colonel O'Neill."

"Sir?"

"What are you doing with the equipment you have captured? I know that you're not bring it back through the gate and there can' be anywhere you can stash it off world."

"I'm not sure I understand what the General is saying?"

"What are you people up to?"

"I am not sure I am at liberty to discuses any matters of United Kingdom national security, sir."

"This is not official: this is just you and me."

"With all due respect, sir, everything her is official to some degree or another."

"Off the record?"

"There are those in my government who believe that it is unwise to place planetary security in the hands of just on nation. The United Kingdom is, as a nation, rather paranoid about having all our eggs in one basket, especially if we're not the ones holding the handle."

"Care to speculate on what they are planning."

"Have you ever heard of a placed called Woomera?"

"I can't say that I have, but I would be interested to learn more."

"It's a small town, nothing to write home about, but it is just 27km from a area referred to on maps of Australia as the 'Woomera Prohibited Range', similar to your White Sands. It is some 127,000-square kilometres, located to the north of Adelaide."

"Your nations answer to Area-51?"

"In many ways, Sir: there are something that I can't talk about, even off the record."

"And the British government pays for all this?"

"In part. The bulk of the funding comes from selected members of the Commonwealth: Canada, Australia and New Zeeland. They don't know all the truth; just that we have some equipment there that we suspect is of extraterrestrial origin. They fork up the cash and a few specialists, we do the rest."

"And the American govement?"

"I am sure that they run spy-satellites over the base every chance they get, but the main work is carried out underground. They know it is there, but they chose to ignore it, the same way the British, Canadian, Australian and New Zeeland governments ignore Area-51."

"These things are just not talked about?"

"It wouldn't be cricket, sir."

"And you trust me with this information?"

"It is felt, by many of those behind the work at Woomera, that you are more interested in protecting this planet than any political gains that could be made by unmasking what my team does. And if you, of other selected personnel, ever left the SGC, you could probably expect offers to work as consultants for a DERA project in Adelaide."

"You have been told to tell me this?"

"I was told that, should the need ever arise, that I was authorised to tell you the truth. Or at lest, what I have been told is the truth."

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, when we first practice to deceive."

"I could not have put it better myself, sir."

"Thank you Captain, that will be all."

"Sir!" McPherson saluted before turning on his heals and leaving.

Hammond sat in silence for a few minuets, then reached for his phone, "Page Colonel O'Neill to my office."

"You wanted to see me, sir?" O'Neill asked when he popped his head through the door.

"Come in, close the door and sit down." Hammond instructed, "You've got a lot of vacation time built up, Jack, and I think you should take some. Have you ever considered Australia?"

**The End**


	4. Part 4

_This chapter was requested by Union-Jack2.0, and I admit that it is something I've been thinking of for a while. It's set between chapters 2 and 3 of this story._

**The New Guys, part 4**

"Somehow, the phrase 'that's another fine mess you've gotten us into' springs to mind Jonas." O'Neill lamented as he hung from the cell wall by his wrists, "And who the hell is this guy anyway?"

"Mars, Roman god of war." The young man explained, "According to the legend, he was the father of Romulus and Remus, the mythological founders of Rome…"

"You could have just said 'Mars, Roman god of war' and left it at that…" O'Neill rolled his eyes, "And how likely is he to be very angry with us?"

"Mars is a minor System Lord, and will likely present us to Anubis in an attempt to curry favour and influence." Teal'c speculated in his usual deadpan way, "He has very few Jaffa under his command, but a disproportionably high number of ships."

"So we have been captured by a frustrated god of war?" O'Neill sighed, "We never get any brakes."

"Try looking on the bright side Jack." Carter suggested, "We're not dead yet."

"The keyword there was 'yet'." O'Neill shook his head, "I appreciate the attempt to make me feel better Sam, but it's not working…" He stopped when he heard shouting from outside, followed by some very off-key singing, interrupted by sporadic gunfire.

"_When you walk through the storm,  
__hold your head up high,  
__and don't be afraid of the dark."_

"You know something." O'Neill raised an eyebrow, "That sounds a lot like Sergeant Garang…"

"_Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart,  
__and you'll never walk alone!"_

"That's Sergeant Garang." Carter nodded, "But what's he doing here?"

"Does it matter?" O'Neill asked, "WE'RE IN HERE!"

"Allright?" Sergeant Garang's grinning face appeared at the cell door, "What you lot doing in there then?"

"Just hanging out." O'Neill quipped.

"Don't worry; we'll have you out of there in a jiffy!" The former Ghurkha attached something to the doorframe, "You might want to look the other way…"

The door exploded inwards, narrowly missing Carter and Jonas. The smoke started to settle as Garang and Privet Fred Jones stepped through. They quickly untied SG-1, allowing O'Neill and Carter to embrace one another.

"I thought the rules said no hank-panky off world?" Garang laughed, almost missing the Jaffa who ran through the doorway.

The initial swing of the warrior's staff weapon was aimed too high, and missed Garang's head entirely. The Jaffa recovered quickly, but the Sergeant had already drawn his Kukri and held in tightly in his right hand.

Dodging the next attack, Garang let out a loud cry as he span round, the curve-bladed knife slicing cleanly thought his attackers neck, all but severing his head. A second blow to the already dead mans abdomen impaled the immature Goa'uld symbiote inside.

"Wow!" Jonas blinked.

"Aye, well the bastard had it coming!" Jones shrugged, lifting his automatic shotgun to his shoulder and covering the door.

"What was it you said there?" O'Neill asked Garang.

"An old Nepalese war cry, not something I'd want to repeat in English." The Sergeant almost blushed, "Not in mixed company, anyway."

"So you speak Nepalese?"

"Both me parents where from Nepal, and they decided that it was important that I understood both sides of my cultural heritage. That said, you don't half get some funny looks when you say something in Nepalese with a thick Liverpool ascent."

A loud explosion rocked the compound, showering everyone with a layer of dust.

"That'll be the captain." Jones headed through the door, "He does love fireworks…"

* * *

Outside the cellblock looked like a scene from Pandemonium: smoke hung over the main courtyard, with several fire still burning. Wounded Jaffa were staggering around, shocked by the intensity of the attack. One spotted SG-1 and their rescuers, but a single well-aimed shot from a hidden location dropped him like a stone.

SG-1 kept running until Garang called a halt, "Need to make shore the Stargate is still clear."

They advanced slowly, the two SAS soldiers taking the lead as they edged forward. Captain McPherson was waiting for them a short distance from the Stargate.

"Good to see you're still alive." The English officer smiled, "We managed to lead most of the Jaffa away from the trail you took, but it's only a matter of time before they realise that there's only one way we're getting off this planet and double back."

"Any sign of anyone?" O'Neill asked.

"I sent Mick up to have a look."

* * *

It was ten minuets before Privet Mick Wright made his way back to the rally point, a grim expression on his face, "Jaffa, platoon strength, with at least two heavy weapons. The Rupert seems to be some short-ass git with a Ben Her fixation."

"That will be Mars himself." Teal'c nodded solemnly, "He would want to recapture us himself in order to impress Anubis."

"Ok, This is the plan." O'Neill drew a rough circle on the ground, "Captain, take you team and go round on the right until you're almost in line with the Stargate. We'll go round to the left, catch them in a crossfire…" the sound of staff weapons being readied interrupted him, "Or maybe not…"

* * *

"_So, the legendary SG-1 though that they could escape_?" Mars strutted back and forth in front of the prisoners, "_I only hope that Anubis allows me to be there when he executes you_."

"You know if you're that stuck for things to do, there are some good films in the cinema at the moment." O'Neill suggested, "Maybe you could catch a matinee?"

"_Silence!_" Mars sneered, "_I will teach you to respect your gods!_" He walked along until he stopped in front of Fred Jones, easily the tallest of the prisoners, "_Starting with you._"

"Hey, Pal, can yer mammie sew?" Jones had a dangerous look in his eye, "Aye, well stitch this!"

There was a loud crack as his head connected with that of the System Lord with impressive force. Mars staggered back: cross-eyed but still on his feet.

"Aw right?" Jones looked at him, his head cocked to one side, "Big toughie, is ye? Once more wi' feelin'!"

There was wet crack, and blood flew everywhere as Mars' nose shattered under a second impact. The Goa'uld fell to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut.

"You just head butted a System Lord into unconsciousness!" O'Neill blinked.

"Aye, well the bastard shouldn't have looked at me funny." The SAS trooper shrugged, "Who did he think he was anyway? Coming along and giving it the big '_I AM_' shit!" He looked round at the assembled Jaffa, "Aye, come and have a go if ye think you're hard enough!"

"That will do Jones." McPherson slipped a small knife out of his pocket and cut the rope binding his hands together, "No need to take it personally."

"Yeah, good idea." O'Neill nodded as his own restraints were cut, rubbing his wrists to get back his sense of circulation, "You're up Teal'c."

"Jaffa, Kree!" The former First Prime looked at the still shocked Jaffa, "Mars is a false god, like all the other Goa'uld. They are not worthy of our obedience. Our people can and will be free, if you will stand with us!"

Nobody moved for what felt like an eon, waiting to see what would happen next. O'Neill eyed the Stargate nervously; trying to work out how quickly they could reach it and dial out.

Finally, one of Mars' Jaffa removed his armor and dropped it were the Goa'uld lay. The others followed suit, until they were all standing in just their regular clothes.

"Did we win?" Sergeant Garang asked no one in particular.

"We didn't lose." O'Neill shrugged, "Teal'c, you stay here and organise everything to get them to one of the Free Jaffa camps. We'll go to the Alpha Site and report in.""

"Indeed." Teal'c nodded before walking over to talk with the other Jaffa.

"What about him?" McPherson asked, pointing his knife at Mars, "What do we do with him?"

"Leave him: he can explain to Anubis how he managed to lose both his prisoners and his Jaffa in one go." O'Neill grinned, "Just wish I could be there for that discussion…"

**The End**


	5. Part 5

_I was planning to start on a proper sequel to The Report, but the plot revolved around a terrorist attack on London.  
I hope you can all understand why I decided against it._

**The New Guys, part 5**

"This is one thing I've not missed about England: the weather." O'Neill lamented as he stamped his feet to keep warm, "And this is supposed to be the summer?"

"The English weather is the best defence we have ever had." McPherson smiled, "And try not to fall over the cliff: I'd hate to explain it to Major Carter."

"How can you see anything in this fog?" O'Neill blinked, "I've never seen anything so thick!"

"Aye, it's a real pea-souper, that's for sure." Sergeant Garang appeared out of the haze, a steaming mug of tea in each hand, "Compliments of General Clarke: he said you might need warming up."

"Good man." McPherson took one offered mug and sipped at the hot, sweet tea, "Any idea how much longer the boffins are going to be?"

"Should be any time now." Garang nodded, "I've got to go: Jonas is babysitting Teal'c. He said something about a drinking game…" He disappeared into the fog.

"We should probably head back then." McPherson started back along the footpath, "It may be a little overcast, but at least it's not as hot as Australia was…"

"Will you drop that?" O'Neill rolled his eyes, "It was one silly mistake."

"That almost got you shot. There are safer things to do on holiday than try and break into the Woomera Prohibited Range. I had to do some fast talking to stop them deporting the two of you…"

"Don't remind me: Sam brings it up every chance she gets. And I will point out that it was Hammond's idea in the first place: He's the one who said the place might be of interest…"

"So you decided to try and sneak into the most secured area in the southern hemisphere?"

"Look, can we talk about something else? Like how centuries of archaeologists missed something as big and impressive as a Stargate burred in Cornwall?"

"Dumb luck I guess." McPherson shrugged as they reached the encampment, "We didn't even know to look until we found out that they even existed."

A mobile crane was poised above a deep pit dug into the soft earth. Soldiers in SGC and SAS uniforms milled around, many armed. O'Neill could see Generals Hammond and Clarke standing just inside the tent that served as the command post, talking.

Carter and Jonas were down in the bottom of the pit with a number of British military scientists, examining the newly uncovered Stargate. The DHD it was attached to sat to one side, a sheet of tarpaulin protecting it from the elements.

"And to think, everyone else believes that this is a security exercise." O'Neill smiled, "How on earth did you guys pull that off?"

"Easy: it's the sort of training exercise we do every few years." McPherson explained, "And the Duke was only to happy to help when President Ryan asked him."

"Yeah, that was very fast: how'd they pull it off?"

"The Duke of Cornwall is otherwise known as His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. I believe even you know how he met President Ryan."

"Yeah, I was in Germany at the time, but it was all over the T.V. The President did well, for a Marine."

"I'd be careful not to say that too loud; he's very popular with our military." McPherson walked over to the command tent, "Colonel O'Neill is growing impatient, and would like to know when the Stargate is going to be moved."

"I've just been in contact with Ding: he says the transport is almost here." General Clarke put down his coffee, "We can proceed as soon as Major Carter and Mr Quinn give the say so."

"Yo, Sam: hustle will you?" O'Neill yelled down into the pit, "We're burning what little daylight we have!"

"One more crack like that, sir, and you're sleeping on the sofa!" Came back the reply, making everyone but O'Neill smile.

"Never get involved with a subordinate." The Colonel shook his head.

"I think we're ready to proceed." Hammond looked at his watch, "Captain, if you would be so good as to call in the transport."

"Sir." McPherson pulled a radio from his belt, "Eagle 1, this is mission control: come on down."

"_Rodger that mission control, starting decent now_." A thick Australian accent replied, "_Dropping the cloak, now!_"

The air rippled as the Tel'tak lowered itself over the uncovered Stargate and hovered effortlessly in midair.

"The number of mission I've done where we could have used one of those…" General Clarke shook his head.

There was a hum as the ships transporter rings descended. A flash later, and Major Domingo 'Ding' Chavez stood grinning in the middle of the pit.

"We have **_SO_** got to get one of these for Rainbow!" He yelled up at his CO.

"I'm working on it Ding, I'm working on it." Clarke smiled, "You guys all set?"

"The Australians seem to think that they can extend the cloak to encompass the Stargate once we've rigged it up." Carter climbed up the ladder leading out of the pit, "Unfortunately, it won't fit into the cargo-bay, so we need rig up a net."

"Shouldn't be that hard?" McPherson smiled.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Well, it 'ain't pretty, but it'll do." The Tel'tak's Australian pilot, Squadron Leader Max Rockatansky, looked at the web of steal cables that held the Stargate to the underside of his ship, "I just hope it'll hold till we reach Woomera."

"We would be more happy having it at Area 51." Hammond sighed, "But we understand that it is the property of the British Government."

"Relax: it's being kept in storage in case we ever need it." Clarke smiled, "Ok, who wants to go see just what they're up to down-under?"

"You telling me they'll let us into Woomera?" O'Neill blinked.

"The President asked real nice and smoothed things over." The General smiled, "He has a knack for getting what he wants."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Woomera control, this is Eagle 1: starting our approach now." Rockatansky reported as the Tel'tak skimmed over the seemingly endless Outback.

"_Confirmed Eagle 1, bay 2 is open and ready_." The controller reported, "_Welcome home_."

"It's good to be back." Rockatansky smiled, before turning to his passengers, "Ok Sirs, try not to gawp too much!"

The Tel'tak dived down towards what looked like a patch of desert, only to pass harmlessly through it, coming out in a large underground cavern.

"This is a natural cavern that was first used as a storage area back when they tested ICBM's here in the 50's." Rockatansky explained, "The tech-boys have rigged up a holographic projector to hide the doors when they open."

Another Tel'tak and an Al-Kesh sat on landing pads across the other side of the cavern, but the bulk of the space was taken up by what looked like two _Prometheus_ class Battlecruiser's.

"Where did you guys get those?" O'Neill asked, leaning forward as far as he could.

"We built them." McPherson explained, "The _Warrior_ and _Victory_ over there are the first two ships in the Commonwealth Space Fleet. The _Warrior_ as a hyperdrive we selvedge from an Ha'Tak, but we don't have anything for the _Victory_ yet."

"How many ships do you have in total?" Carter asked.

"Just those two at the moment: they each cost almost a years budget, so it'll be a while before we can build any more." McPherson shrugged, "We're hoping to grab some more Tel'tak shuttles and Al-Kesh bombers to make up the deference a little."

"You do realise that we only have the _Prometheus_ operational at the moment." O'Neill looked at the English officer, "You've more than doubled our fleet!"

"Don't get too excited, Sir." McPherson shook his head, "Neither ship is considered operational as of yet: we don't have trained crew, and they lack the advanced technology the Asgard gave the _Prometheus_."

"Fighters?" Carter asked.

"Two squadrons, #617 and #633, of slightly modified X-302's that we call _Spitfires_." Rockatansky explained as he landed the shuttle on a specially constructed cradle with ease, "I can take you up in one if you like."

"I think we'll pass: you've been up in one super-advanced fighter, you've been up in them all." O'Neill made his way out of the now open hatch and down a ramp that had been wheeled into location, "But it's nice to know that we have some backup should we ever need it…"

**The End**


End file.
